Pure Aqua
by Reallybreakyourleg
Summary: HP/DM  Harry returns Malfoy's wand to him, and their relationship progresses further. One shot.


Disclaimer: I only own the story, I don't own the characters or anything from the Harry Potter universe. J.K. Rowling and her team do, and I am not profiting financially from this endeavor.

Warnings: This is pre-slash, I guess? If you don't like it, I suggest you don't read it, since it will be a negative experience for you. This is also my first fan fiction story I've ever written, so please be patient and if you must criticize, please be constructive. Thanks!

Pure Aqua

Malfoy,

I have your wand. If you want, we could meet.

Harry

Harry frowned at the note before sealing it and sending it along with Pigwidgeon. It was the best he could do, he supposed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. There was Hogwarts rebuilding to be done, and the fixing up of Grimmauld Place, and the last of the Death Eaters to round up, and he was dead tired.

A crash jerked Harry out of his chair. For one wild moment he thought Malfoy had come to kill him for 'ever speaking to him again' and brought his wand up to chest level.

"Sorry Harry!" Hermione stood in the doorway, clutching a stack of books and looking panicked. She edged closer, then made her way to Harry's bed. Harry lowered his wand quickly.

"No, I'm sorry Hermione...Are those books for school?" he stared at the stack, bewildered. Hermione nodded eagerly. "I thought I'd get a jump on them now." She began to eagerly page through the top book on the stack.

"But, we still have a month left!"

Hermione looked up sternly. "Harry, we've been away from school for a year. We need to keep up with our studies." "You mean you haven't been doing that all this time?" Harry teased, "I mean, we've been out of school for a year." Hermione looked indignant. "I was helping you! I couldn't just, I mean I _read_ but-" She stopped at the look on Harry's face. "Harry!" She scolded over his laughter.

He patted her on the shoulder and picked up one of the books, flipping through it. "So what have you been up to?" She asked. Harry shrugged. "I sent a letter. To Malfoy." Hermione stopped paging through her book. "What?" He stopped at her look. "I just.." She bit her lip. "Do you think he'll answer? I mean, since the trial it seems like he wouldn't want much to do with you."

She spoke slowly and gently, as if Harry would be greatly wounded for life if Draco Malfoy never spoke to him again. He ignored that particular thought and continued. "We'll have to see, won't we?" He said. Hermione nodded.

"What did you write about? I mean, was it private?"

"No, I just told him I have his wand, and that we could meet if he wanted."

"Oh."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, then back down at her book. They were both startled out of their reading by another crash. Or rather, Hermione was startled out of her reading, and Harry was startled out of his placating Hermione by pretending to read. Ron winced.

"Sorry, I forgot it sometimes does that." He paled at the sight of Hermione and the books.

"What are those?"

He looked like he already knew the answer. It was Hermione, Harry reasoned, so it was pretty obvious. Hermione brightened. "They're our books for school! I thought I'd get started on them now, since we missed so much last year."

She beamed at Ron and his face softened. "That sounds smart Hermione." He offered. Harry shot him a look and Ron smiled. Ron gave her a quick peck on the cheek before settling on his bed.

"Here's your stack."

Hermione placed a tower of books on Ron's lap and his grin faltered. Harry returned to his book, smiling. Hermione and Ron had made it official right at the end of the war, and he was happy that they had finally gotten on with it. There was a lot less bickering now that they were together, and Harry felt it was because there was finally some calming of all that sexual tension.

He tried to focus back on the book, because Ron and Hermione easing their sexual tension was not something he wanted to dwell on.

Of course, that made him think about Ginny, and that was not something Harry wanted to focus on either. When the war had ended, along with everyone else Ginny had run to Harry screaming and congratulating him. She then promptly flung herself on Dean Thomas and had become quite preoccupied since.

"It's not that I don't care about you Harry." She told him one night. "It's just that I never felt that we were really a couple. Maybe, it felt like you didn't care for the idea." She thought for a moment. "And I'm okay with that." Afterwards Harry felt confused, and oddly relieved, and their friendship had continued on.

"Harry, mate?"

He snapped out of his reverie and looked up. Ron was waving his arms around, trying to get his attention. Seeing that he had, Ron stopped.

"You look preoccupied. Everything alright?" Ron had taken Ginny and Harry's breakup equally well, saying that he would really prefer that Ginny never dated anyone, because it disturbed him greatly as her big brother.

"He's thinking about Malfoy, I expect." Hermione said, turning a page. Ron's eyebrows went up. "Malfoy? Don't beat yourself up Harry, his father deserved to go to Azkaban. And you helped his mum go free, which is more than most would have done." Ron continued on that vein, ranting for a good while. Harry shook his head and spoke loudly over Ron until he shut up.

"I wasn't thinking about Malfoy, but I did send him a letter earlier." Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "You sent him a letter? What for? I mean," Ron looked sheepish. "Was it private?" Harry stared at him and realized that Hermione had asked the same thing.

"What would I have to talk to Malfoy about privately? I just told him I have his wand and would give it back to him if he wanted to meet."

"Oh."

Ron was giving him a weirdly sympathetic look. "Why don't you just Owl his wand to him? Not that I want to pry mate," He added quickly, "It's just he could be dangerous." "I don't know." Harry scratched the back of his neck. "I just...thought it'd be the right thing to do. Check in, make sure he's...alright."

Harry caught Ron shooting glances at him and he was beginning to feel unsettled. He stood up before he could say anything, "I'm going over to Grimmauld Place to do a bit of painting."

Ron immediately stood up too, dumping his books on the floor. "I'll go too." He put in quickly. "Mum has some fabric swatches she wants you to look at, I'll get them, hold on." He dashed out of the room he and Harry shared and down the stairs. Hermione looked bemused.

Ron came back quickly, this time clutching a large book stuffed with fabric. She's marked the ones she's liked for which room Harry, let's go."

Ron nearly dragged him out the door before stopping and returning to give Hermione another peck. They arrived at Grimmauld Place from the Burrow in record time now that they could safely and accurately Apparate. Grimmauld Place was still being used for Order business, and more cleaning was always necessary given that Kreacher had died.

The dining room had been painted a warmer color, a kind of yellow-ish hue that Mrs. Weasley had said was Butterscotch. The kitchen was white, and the drawing room was in process. Ron flopped along the sofa and pried the fabric book open.

"I dunno Harry, stripes or plaid?" Harry looked up from the spell he was focusing on to make the drawing room wall a light cream color and grimaced. "I don't know either. I think Hermione might-"

The door opened and they both jumped. Hermione stood there smiling. "I thought you all could use some help. So I'm taking a break from reading."

She sat at the end of the sofa as Ron scrambled to make room for her. Hermione took the fabric book from Ron and began to flip through it, cooing softly and holding up the fabrics she liked for Harry to see.

An hour and a half later the drawing room was finished, and they returned to the Burrow to see Pigwidgeon flying around hysterically. In his talons was a piece of parchment. There was a slight skirmish where Ron chased Pig around his room before snatching him out of the air and Harry pried the parchment from the owl. Harry slid a finger under the austere seal binding the letter and pulled upward.

Potter,

The front of Madame Malkins, Thursday, 2:00 p.m. Don't be late.

Malfoy

It was short, but it was enough, and Harry started feeling a bit better.

After the war the Malfoys hadn't put up a fight. Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, and Narcissa to house arrest for two years, then probation. Draco had been placed on probation for the next five years. Harry's testimony, everyone had said, was the only reason both Narcissa and Draco had escaped Azkaban.

Harry had worried about what he would say during the two weeks coming up before the trial. He did not want to and could not save Lucius from prison, but Narcissa Malfoy had saved his life, and he was grateful. He knew from the night in the Astronomy Tower that Draco was not a killer, and did not feel much enmity toward the younger Malfoy anymore. Harry wasn't sure where they stood.

At 2:00 p.m. on Thursday Harry stood in front of Madame Malkins, off to the side near an alley that provided enough shadow that people didn't give him a second glance when they passed by. At 2:10 he recognized a pale figure that stopped when he saw Harry.

"You're here." Malfoy looked surprised.

Harry squinted, Malfoy's hair was blinding in sunlight. "You told me to be here at 2:00. You also," Malfoy stepped closer and Harry could look into his clear eyes. "told me not to be late."

Malfoy almost smirked. Almost. "I didn't think you'd actually come on time."

Harry shrugged. A minute passed as Harry tried to think of something to say. He was opening his mouth when Malfoy beat him to it. "Well, Potter?" He was looking uncomfortable. Harry widened his eyes.

"Oh! Yes, sorry. Er..."

He extracted Malfoy's wand from his cloak and offered it to Malfoy. Realizing that pointing a wand at a former enemy could cause discomfort, he said, "Look, I'm not going to attack you with it. Just take it." Harry reached out further.

Malfoy looked at his wand, then at Harry's face, eyes searching. He took a step closer and retrieved his wand. Harry expected Malfoy to hide it away, but instead he just stared down at it. Harry remembered being reunited with his own wand and felt bad about not contacting him sooner.

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't write sooner. There's been a lot...I'm sorry."

Malfoy looked up and the wand vanished beneath the folds of his cloak. "Don't worry about it Potter."

A pause. "Thank you." slipped from the mouth of a Malfoy and Harry smiled.

Malfoy's ears might have gone pink and he muttered a hasty goodbye before turning away. "Bye." Harry muttered after him, feeling cheery, before turning in the opposite direction and Apparating back to the Burrow.

A week later Harry received an Owl from Malfoy. It read:

Potter,

Do you not know proper wand etiquette? You return my wand to me muddy, scratched, and ridden with greasy fingerprints, and you expect me to be grateful?

Malfoy

Harry scratched his head and scribbled a reply on the back of Malfoy's letter. The next morning the same owl woke Harry and Ron (only momentarily, but still) by determinedly running itself into the window, causing a racket that involved Pigwidgeon bursting out of his cage. Harry stumbled out of bed and let the owl in. Malfoy's reply read:

Really Potter?

You defile my beautiful custom parchment with your untidy scrawl? I suggest you invest in some quality parchment. Just because you live with pigs doesn't mean you should act like one. Yes that was me insulting the Weasleys, in case you insist on being thick as usual. And you tell me in your letter that you do not understand my change in behavior? I certainly don't _miss_ you, like you implied, you egotistical bigot. My behavior was polite and refined, befitting of my good breeding. I began acting this way after I realized what state my wand was in. A horrid, horrid state Potter. I was just writing to inform you of your faults. You're welcome.

Malfoy

"Whuzgoinon?"

Ron turned over and peered at Harry as if he was at the bottom of a well. Someone knocked at the door. "Come in." Harry said. Hermione slipped inside.

"What was that awful racket? It's seven in the morning." She stopped. "Is that Malfoy's bird?"

"How do you know that's Malfoy's bird?" Ron demanded.

Hermione shrugged. "That bird came into the Great Hall almost every day for six years Ron Weasley. How could I not recognize it?"

Ron sank lower under his covers under Hermione's gaze. Harry cleared his throat, and Hermione moved her attention over to Harry. "So why is Malfoy writing you?"

"It's not private." Harry said quickly, in case they got on that vein again.

"He was just writing to tell me I'm a failure. And a git." Ron sat up.

"What?"

"Yeah, apparently his wand's a bit of a mess. I didn't think to clean it. And then I wrote on the back of his parchment."

Ron looked pale. "Mate," He whispered, "You're not angry." Harry shrugged. "I think he's ridiculous about the parchment thing, but I could of cleaned his wand. It would've been nice. He didn't accept my apology though."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look.

"Stop doing that." He ordered. "Stop doing that look thing." They did.

"So, is he going back to school?" Hermione asked. Harry stared at her blankly.

"Isn't everyone? I mean, everyone who hasn't been-killed?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Daphne Greengrass wrote me and told me he might not attend Eighth Year."

"You write to Daphne Greengrass?" Ron sputtered.

"Ron."

"But she's a Slytherin!"

"Ron."

"Okay."

"Why wouldn't he go?" Harry felt odd, like he was made of lead.

"I expect it wouldn't be pleasant for him to go back, considering no one really thinks of him as..."

"Anything but a evil, rotten git?"

"Yes, Ron." Hermione sighed. "I mean, we all know, but to everyone else, he's a Death Eater and always will be."

Malfoy,

I'll get right on that parchment buying thing. And don't insult the Weasleys. I told you I was sorry about the wand thing. I really am. I heard that you might not come back to school. If you don't, you'll never get to beat me at Quidditch. Just saying.

Harry

Harry didn't get a letter back from Malfoy, but on September 1st in the Great Hall a familiar blonde head could be seen at the Slytherin table. And Eighth years would not be allowed to play Quidditch this last year. The uproar was immediate.

Harry could hear Malfoy's indignant, "What?" from across the hall. "In light of how many have returned to complete their Seventh Year at Hogwarts, we have decided to simplify the process and allow the younger students to continue on as normally as possible." Professor McGonagall spoke loudly and with an air of finality.

Two weeks later Harry and the other Eighth Years had taken to having pick up games of Quidditch to make up for the fact they couldn't be on the House teams.

Which explained why Harry found himself getting beat over the head with a broomstick by Malfoy.

In an attempt to unite the houses they determined they should not have the teams be separate houses. To give everyone a chance to play positions, they rotated which positions they played. Malfoy and Harry were both Chasers.

"You dropped the ball you ingrate!" Malfoy hissed before commencing with bludgeoning Harry to death.

"Because you chucked it at my head!" He snapped back.

"It's not my fault you're handicapped!"

"Ow! Quit!" This was familiar, this was _nice_, Harry thought suddenly, and stopped fighting Malfoy off. He was rewarded by a brutal smack in the face that sent his glasses flying and his nose gushing blood.

The other Eighth Years who had leisurely been watching a typical Malfoy-Potter battle, rushed to his side. Malfoy looked shocked.

"I didn't...I..."

Harry tried to focus over the pain and crush of people. "No, I'm fine. I just bleed easily. It's fine. No, Lavender, it's fine. I'll just go to the hospital wing."

He pushed through the group blindly and made his way to the castle. No one followed him, and for once Harry was grateful for the command he seemed to have over the other students. He trudged on, thankful for the fact that Hogwarts was very large and very grey so that he could find his way safely.

"Potter, wait up!"

He paused, recognizing the panicked voice. "Look, I'm sorry." Malfoy babbled, "I didn't mean to, I lost my grip and you just stood there you idiot, who just stands there? You could have been hurt!"

"Well I am."

Malfoy stopped, and Harry stopped too, squinting towards him.

"I'm sorry." Harry realized Malfoy actually did sound sorry.

"S'okay." He said quickly. "I did just stop. Sorry."

Malfoy stared back. "You left your glasses. Here."

Something was quickly shoved on Harry's face. At least now he could see. "Thanks. I won't report you." He said suddenly. Malfoy looked up. "I won't. I know you're on probation, but it was an accident."

Malfoy smirked, and Harry was happy for once to see that. "The others will tell. They're not all noble like you."

"You think I'm noble?" Harry was surprised.

"No. I meant pig headed and egotistical." Malfoy said in a rush.

"Right."

"Stop smiling."

"I'm not smiling!"

"Yes you are Potter, I can see it. You look grotesque. There's blood everywhere. Stop it."

"Whatever Malfoy." Harry smiled at the thought of Malfoy's expansive vocabulary. He wondered if he had ever read _Flying with the Cannons. _

They were quiet for a while as they made they're way through the castle. "I won't let the others blame you." Harry said. Malfoy stopped.

"Potter, don't." It sounded like a plea.

"Don't what?" Malfoy stared at him.

"All I do lately is apologize to you, okay? It's tiring."

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say. "I guess I owe you then. All I've apologized for is the wand thing." Malfoy was silent, but looked up again.

"Er, I'm sorry for..."

"Don't just do this so you can feel better." Malfoy snapped.

"Will you shut up for a minute? I'm trying to be sincere." Harry bit back.

When he was sure Malfoy would stay quiet, he continued. "I'm sorry for the bathroom thing. I didn't know what that spell could do. And I'm sorry that we couldn't save Crabbe." Malfoy was shaking his head.

"I don't like this." He declared. Harry frowned.

"What? You don't like me apologizing? Aren't you going to gloat about how you got me to, I don't know, bow down to your greatness or something?"

Malfoy continued to shake his head. "Of course. But you shouldn't be apologizing in the first place. You should be slamming me into walls and being your usual uncouth self. Everything's changed." Malfoy brooded, "I don't like it."

It was Harry's turn to shake his head. "I do." Malfoy squinted at him.

"I do like it. We're not fighting all the time. It's nice." He thought back to before he got hit. "I was thinking, back there, that I like how some things stay the same, like you semi-bludgeoning me and being a sore loser and strutting around the place-"

"I don't _strut_." Malfoy exclaimed, offended.

"But" Harry spoke louder, "I like that we're not at each other's throats all the time." They stopped outside the Hospital Wing doors.

"Fix my nose." Harry said suddenly. Malfoy looked unsettled.

"What? Potter, do you have a concussion?"

"No," Harry said hurriedly, "You can fix it. I saw you with Nott, when he sliced his hand in Potions. Fix it. I trust you."

Malfoy stared at him for a long time before raising his wand. "I'm pointing a wand at your face." He spoke slowly, "And you trust me?"

"Yes."

There was a pause.

"Episky."

Harry winced, then reached up. His nose felt fine. "Thank you."

Malfoy gave a small smile in return. Then his eyes narrowed with what looked like glee. Harry cleared his face of blood just in case Malfoy wanted to mock him or something. "Potter, are you trying to be...friends? Or," Malfoy paused, "Something more?"

Harry backed away. "Um, er, no? I thought we could kind of be friends, sometimes. I don't like you or anything. And I didn't imply that you missed me." Harry said fiercely. He couldn't remember what he had been implying, but it wasn't that. He certainly didn't miss Malfoy, and he didn't care if Malfoy missed him.

Malfoy stared at him fixedly for a minute, then turned away. "You follow me, you watch me, you try to make nice-" He muttered.

"I don't follow you!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Sixth year?"

"That's not fair! You had a-a nefarious plot!"

Malfoy laughed lightly, which made Harry feel more nervous. "Don't try to steal my vocabulary Potter, it's not polite. Or should I call you Harry, since we're friends?" Harry's eyes widened as Malfoy advanced. He felt nervous and giddy. Then Malfoy stopped. "Sorry. I should stop teasing you." He paused.

"We can be friends, if that's what you want."

"Okay." Harry nodded. A small smile lit of Malfoy's face, and Harry tried not to think too hard about why that made him smile so much too.

Harry returned to the Common Room shortly after finsihing an argument with Malfoy over the merit of the Chudley Cannons.

"Harry! Where have you been?" Ron asked. He and Hermione were sitting in the Common Room reading.

"I was er, with Malfoy."

Ron stopped playing with Hermione's hair. "Neville thought he saw you." His voice became hushed and he glanced at Neville. "But I didn't think-thought he was wrong..."

"Well," Hermione said brightly and oh so smoothly, "Did you have fun?"

Ron sat up straight. "He hit him in the face with a _broom _today Hermione, he couldn't actually-"

"It was good. I think we're...we're friends now."

Harry couldn't stop his grin. Ron and Hermione shared a look. "Stop doing that." He ordered them and their stupid sharing eyes. He thought back to Malfoy's comment.

"Do you think I love him or something?" Hermione and Ron looked startled.

"Why would you think that Harry?" Hermione began. "Do you?" Ron was swallowing compulsively.

"No," Harry started backtracking, "He was just teasing me, about you know, following him and all." He finished lamely.

Ron gave Hermione one last look and started talking before Harry exploded. "Mate, what was Ginny's favorite color?"

"Um, red?" Harry said. Ron shook his head.

Hermione jumped in, "And what's Malfoy's?"

"Pale aqua."

Harry felt the need continue on defensively. "What? He said it a few years ago in Potions, that that was the color of his room in his vacation home in Greece!"

His friends blinked at him like he was missing the point. "Harry, how long did you prepare for the testimony you were going to give for Malfoy and his mother?"

"Well, the two weeks before the trial, anyone would have-"

"But mate, Kingsley, er, the Minister said you could tell the court what was put in the report, exactly how you told them. You didn't have to study the most effective ways of speech making and round up even more witnesses and self administer Veritaserum and-"

Hermione cut in gently, "You moped around Harry, when we were waiting for the verdict. It's like one of you're best friends had gone. We're just saying that you might be...more fond of him than you realize. We don't want you to get hurt, and we want to make sure you don't unintentionally hurt him."

Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it. He couldn't say anything. Instead he walked up to the dormitories without another word and began pacing. The night was long for Harry. When everyone had gone up to bed, he went down to the Common Room and started pacing again.

The next morning he was up early and hurried down to the Great Hall without Ron or Hermione. He lurked outside the doors until he saw Malfoy and started toward.

"Malfoy." His voice shook.

Malfoy simply looked at him. Harry felt awkward.

"Um, can we talk?"

"Sure Potter, what would you like to talk about? The weather is nice today. Your hair looks hideous, as usual."

Harry just grabbed Malfoy's neck and pulled.

The kiss was short, and warm, and perfect.

Harry leaned away after, assessing the damage. Malfoy stood still, staring at Harry with wide, blinking eyes. He snapped out of his daze to point his wand at Harry.

"Who are you? Reveal yourself!"

Malfoy muttered something and Harry felt a chill pass over him. Malfoy lowered his wand, looking almost as shocked as the other students milling around.

"It's really you? Potter, what are you doing?" He spluttered.

Harry rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. "I," he said, "am asking you to Hogsmeade this weekend. If you want to go, as more than friends, of course."

Malfoy stared fixedly a little longer.

"Fine." He said suddenly.

Harry's eyebrows rose. "You heard me!" Malfoy turned on the spectators.

"I said I would go! Now shove off!"

They scattered.

Malfoy turned back to Harry, pink in the face. "I might have missed you." He blurted.

Harry smiled. "I did too."


End file.
